Brothers
by Deadeye47
Summary: In which Q is the third and youngest Holme's brother. Sherlock and Mycroft get protective when learning that Q is having relations with James. Awkward conversations, kidnapping, and chaos ensues. Bondlock. Parings include 00Q and slight Johnlock.


"John, may I borrow your phone?" Sherlock asked, his eyes on his current experiment. John looked up from his paper and nodded. He stood up slowly and reached for his phone. It was early morning; both of them had felt too jittery from the night before.

This included a rather long-winded chase, with several gunshots, and a death threat from the anonymous killer in which John was sure Sherlock had almost discovered. Afterwards, John had so much pent up energy, he had grabbed Sherlock by his shirt and practically dragged him to the bedroom.

"Here" He tossed him the small electronic. Sherlock lifted his hand and snatched it. He pulled up his face and began typing madly, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought... and was that concern? No.

"Sherlock?" John walked over; his head tilting slightly to read the text Sherlock was so enamored in. "Everything okay?"

Sherlock snapped the phone shut.

"Perfectly."

XXX

James was tired. Absolutely ragged. He had come in late last night, and found Q curled up on the bed, wrapped in sheets. It was after a long and exhausting mission, in which he had almost gotten killed, twice. It wasn't a new record, but almost dying does take a lot out of an agent. At this, he had collapsed into bed, not minding that Q let out a distressed cry at being squished. He felt the Quartermaster snuggle closer to him as he drifted off. Morning had come; sunlight was trickling in through his blinds. Q was showering; he could feel the heat radiating from the bathroom. He didn't feel like getting up just yet. His body still felt heavy and dragged down, like he was swimming through water with lead limbs. He tossed over and closed his eyes again.

There was the distinct sound of the taps turning, the shrill squeak of the water being cut off. He could hear Q whistling some tune James wasn't familiar with. The door opened, and brought along the smell of Q's shampoo as well as puffs of hot steam and air. He felt the bed dip as Q sat and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Good morning. 007." He whispered.

James turned around. Watching Q drop the towel and reach for some clothes.

"Do you really have to call me that; I thought we were past all that."

"Good morning, _James_." He stressed the last syllables with his tongue. James chuckled. No point in sleeping now. He shook his limbs and sat up. He still felt practically run over.

James walked over and wrapped his arms around Q's torso. He loved the smell of the Quartermaster; he soaked it up like a sponge. He felt a little lighter around Q, he brightened his world.

"Why are you so adamant James? I thought you didn't do relationships." He teased. James, at first, though Q's sharp tongue quite annoying. But over time it had grown on him, and Q loved to tease.

_Loved_.

Which was good for everyone really.

"You're an exception."

James spun Q around and leaned in for a kiss. Just before their lips touched, James could feel the heat on his cheek, he heard the tone of Q's phone. His very convenient, small, stupid little mobile phone. Q huffed and wriggled himself out of Bond's grip and wandered over to the bedside table. James practically glared daggers at the small device. Q read the text quickly; he had a private phone for such matters, although he rarely used it. James was slightly intrigued.

Q's brow furrowed slightly, with concern. Finally he let out an aggravated sigh.

James came up behind him. "Is anything wrong?"

Q let out an annoyed sigh and shook his head. "No, just an relation." Bond's eyes widened slightly. Q shooed him off.

James let out a small chuckles as Q reached for a tie and his signature striped cardigan. James really wished Q didn't wear so many bloody layers. _Really _wished he didn't. Q got dressed quickly and told James as he walked into the kitchen to do the same. James nodded absentmindedly. His eyes flicked to the phone. Q was known for being shut off in his emotions, as was James, although Q wasn't to the extent he had to deal with. But Q had helped with that, had pulled out a little love in him that he didn't know he had.

XXX

It was raining, big drops of moisture. Q let out an aggravated sigh and pulled his umbrella close to him. He had been nervous all day, jittering at his desk, and even almost spilling Earl Gray all over M's new shirt. He didn't know why Sherlock made him nervous. It was just his big, over protective, brother who refused to let anything go without investigating it thoroughly. He was slightly curious why Sherlock hadn't asked James to come instead; he knew that's what it was about. Sherlock wasn't trying to cover it up, not like he did with Mycroft. Q came to 221B and knocked. It was only a few moments before an old, rather sweet looking lady opened it and ushered him in. He could hear Sherlock's violin from upstairs, in sync with the soundtrack of the rain.

Must be a new piece. He rather did like his brother's composing habits, even if he didn't express his affection.

"Sherlock."

Sherlock stopped and dropped his bow. He clicked his case close and pointed to the adjacent chair, facing the window that Sherlock was currently standing in front of.

"Sit."

Q nodded and slipped off his jacket. He sat down slowly and watched as Sherlock turned around and sat across from him. His face was serious, as always, and Q could see the tell-tale signs of protection and concern. Sherlock wasn't one to pronounce his sentiment so easily.

"Where's John?"

"Getting milk."

"Of course."

The conversation felt chipped, slightly awkward. Perhaps it was because of Q's nervousness, although, Sherlock wasn't an easy person to talk to.

"Sebastian, look at me. " Sherlock called. Q stiffened under the sound of his real name.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh of course, what's your idiotic code name? Q, was it? How ridiculous."

"It's protection. You should know I really shouldn't be here. You know I have obligations. What do you want?"

"Mycroft does as well, the nuisance." Sherlock locked his fingers together and tented his hands under his chin. "You know exactly what I want."

Q gulped. "Why didn't you interview him instead of me? You want to know about him."

"I want to know why you chose him; out of all people Q. Mycroft has probably interviewed him already." Sherlock's face contorted.

"He's a good man. I think, I think that we are compatible. I really do."

Sherlock leaned back. Thanking Mrs. Hudson with a nod as she placed a tray on the middle table. Q reached for a cup and sipped it slowly. Sherlock did the same. Q heard the front door clicking. John must be back. How nice, he rather liked John. Although he had to admit, it was more that the man had made Sherlock much easier to deal with. And he was happy his brother had found someone.

Sherlock was quiet still. "You're worried that he's going to leave me? Hurt me? I bet you've read his file. Seen that he gets everyone around him killed. That he sleeps with lots of women. Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I thought this through?"

Sherlock watched him. "Yes. All I wanted was confirmation." He let out a ragged sigh. "I don't want you hurt." Q looked at him incuriously. Wow, John really was rubbing off on him. Sherlock admitting feelings?

Blasphemy.

Speaking of John. Shouldn't he be up by now?

"You've realized as well. " Sherlock stated darkly. Q nodded. He suddenly felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his head. Sherlock looked up at the man behind him.

Sherlock stood up. "Now what do I owe the pleasure." His eyes scanned over the body. Q didn't dare move.

XXX

James felt his chest tighten and his heart stop.

"Are you sure?"

M sighed. "I wouldn't bring you in here and tell you if I wasn't sure, 007. Q and his relation were kidnapped today at 221B Baker Street, at approximately three this afternoon. We've had knowledge for several months now that Q has being tracked."

James was getting angry. "Why didn't you put precautions?" He grit out. M rubbed his forehead.

"We thought we had the threat eliminated. However, it seems our calculations were wrong. We need you to go collect them." M paused for a moment to answer a call.

"Yes. Yes of course. Are you sure?" M nodded. James watched him carefully. "Okay. I will inform him."

"Sir?" James asked and tried to keep his voice steady. Whoever had hurt Q would pay, dearly.

"It seems you'll have some help. They're on their way now. Try to be compliant Bond. You are dismissed. They'll pick you up at your apartment in an hour. Ask Q branch for equipment."

"Of course."

As promised, a black car came up to his apartment. James was waiting, watching each vehicle with apprehension. When the car pulled up, a young man, who James noted as familiar, stepped out of the car. His face looked distraught, but he certainly wasn't an agent. He looked at James and his eyes widened. Bond suddenly realized where he had seen him from. A man, from when he had done a joint agreement with the military.

"John?" James asked carefully. John nodded.

"Yes. I'm glad we know each other. Makes things easier." James spotted a gun on his waist.

He grunted. "Of course."

As soon as James entered the car, he almost backpedaled out. The bastard was in there.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He barked. Mycroft shrugged and crossed his legs. He was on the other side of the car, marked in a tan suit and a slightly dark expression. John chuckled behind him and pushed him into the car. The door slammed with a snap, and they drove off. James sent Mycroft a hefty glare.

John nudged his side. "Did he kidnap you as well? Did the same with me when I first moved in with Sherlock."

James resisted asking questions. "Yes. A couple weeks ago. Interviewed me about Q. You must be his relations."

Mycroft let a small smile grace his face. "How lovely to see you again Mr. Bond. This is John Watson, as you must already know. We are headed to a small, abandoned factory, where Q and Sherlock have been taken."

"Sherlock?"

"Q's older brother." John piped in. "Q went to visit him today, probably to be drilled about you. Sherlock, he's rather protective of his younger brother, although the affection can't be spared for his older." John mumbled the last part and Mycroft grimaced.

"I doubt they'll get any information out of either of them. Sherlock will probably annoy them to death. "John stated.

James raised a brow.

"He's rather fluent in his opinions." John stated.

Oh joy.

XXX

Sherlock glared daggers at the integrator. He was currently tied to a chair, which was tied to the ground, the tricky gits, and watching Q get questioned. They hadn't gotten into anything to gruesome yet, but Sherlock was desperately wanting to break free and break the sweaty man's neck. After several outburst, they had gagged him and left another fool to keep a gun against his back. Q was tied as well in a chair, as the integrator leaned down and teased him, asking question after boring question. Sherlock had bought them some time with his snarky observations. The man's favorite food, his wife's suicide, simple and mundane things.

"Tell us the codes." That's all they had asked. Tell us the codes.

"Be a little more specific. I know that's hard for your brain, but please, try for my sake. "Q spat back. Sherlock grinned.

He was rewarded with a slap. Sherlock felt his blood boil.

"The codes for M16. "

"Be more specific." Q was keeping his answers short and simple.

The man frowned. "Don't test my patience."

Q snorted.

_Slap._

Sherlock was really getting fed up with this.

Where the hell are they?

The man leaned back and watched Q. He placed his hand under his chin and rubbed it thoughtfully, or with as much thought as he could muster, and smiled. Sherlock knew smiles like that. Bored, sadistic, but most importantly, greedy. He spotted a small keychain sticking out of the man's back pocket. It was engraved, probably with an affectionate note, but it had been scratched out. Oh, so sentiment and torture. How interesting. He looked at Sherlock and motioned to the man behind him. Q was dragged out of the way and Sherlock deposited in his place. Sherlock watched the man, watched him very carefully.

"Here kid. Let's see how you deal with this." He pulled out a knife, curved at the tip. It was made to look expensive, but it was really rather cheap, but Sherlock's observations. He really didn't want that anywhere near his skin.

The man circled around him and crouched. Sherlock could feel his thick breath on the back of his neck. His hands were lifted; fingers were run over his knuckles. Sherlock's eyes widened. He heard Q's own breathing increase.

"No! Stop! I don't know what you're talking about, but leave him alone! He's got nothing to do with this!" Q shouted. Sherlock heard a rather large cry as Q was hit. Several times.

"Don't talk unless it's the codes." The man muttered. Each of Sherlock's fingers were handled, like precious gems. He grimaced.

_Where the hell are they!_

Just as Sherlock felt the slight prick of the knife under his nail, he heard a blast from the other side of the factory. He smiled. The men all were rather jostled. Idiots.

Gunfire shot above their heads. Sherlock ducked and felt the man's hand pull away. He spotted John on the far side, and James in the center, shooting down the five men that had been occupying the room. Mycroft hurried in after, along with Anthea, both of whom were armed.

"007!" Q shouted. Sherlock looked behind him. Q's glasses were broken, and his face was bruised, his lip was split and dribbling blood done his chin. James instantly turned around, his face becoming shadowy. Sherlock watched carefully as he untied Q, as quick and as carefully as possible.

He removed Q's glasses and took him by the hand and pulled him up. Q stumbled, but James was there with a hand behind his back to steady him. John cut off Sherlock's bind. He rubbed his hands and stood up. He spotted his coat in the corner. John was muttering on and on about something, as he slipped his gun back in its holster. Mycroft was watching Q and James. He chuckled. Sherlock wandered over and gave Mycroft a rather bored look.

"You kidnapped him didn't you? Why couldn't you just consult with Sebastian?" Sherlock spat. Mycroft shrugged.

"He's an agent Sherlock. Dangerous at that."

"Sebastian has nothing but praise." Sherlock replied. They both turned their gaze.

"He could be confused."

"Could be." Sherlock mumbled.

James was currently helping Q make his way across the compound. He had ripped off part of his shirt so that Q could use it to dab at his lip. The man was a beast, an animal waiting to be unleashed. Perhaps Q was his tamer.

Q let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you two really going to judge him again?"

James chuckled.

Sherlock walked up to the agent. John was close behind.

"Do you promise to look after him?"

"Yes. Of course."

Mycroft came up as well. He put on a serious expression. "You haven't been known for loyalty before. As your file says, relationships aren't your area."

"Q is an exception."

Sherlock raised a brow. He then motioned to John to pull Q away. The Quartermaster sent Sherlock a nasty glare before allowing himself to be tended to by John. Sherlock stepped closer to James, the chiseled man let Sherlock rake his eyes up and down, his brow furrowing and unfurrowing with each careful movement.

"If you hurt him. If you get him killed, you will regret ever being born Mr. Bond." James nodded.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

Mycroft watched.

Sherlock nodded curtly. He turned around, in his usual dramatic fashion, and headed for the doorway.

"John! Let's go!"

XXX

James watched Q undress, plucking each button at an agonizing pace. He deposited the shirt on a nearby chair and slipped out of his trousers. James took to the time to admire his arse before he crawled into bed and snuggled next to him. James smiled.

"Sorry about my brothers. They're awfully overprotective." Q mumbled. James laughed.

"I'll give them that." He kissed Q's brow. Then he started littering kisses on his neck, down to his chest. Q groaned.

"_James_"

**All done! **

**For those of you that were confused about the torture. It's a type where the knife is shoved underneath the fingernails. That would hurt no? Getting your fingernails ripped off one by one by a sharp knife. I think they shove your fingers full of splinters afterwards and start peeling off your skin. **

**Something like that. **


End file.
